Vladimir Putin used a blend of charm, calculated stalling and pointed threats to show U.S. envoys Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner exactly where Russia stands on peace with Ukraine. Witkoff, U.S. President Donald Trump’s special envoy, and Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, enjoyed a stroll through Moscow and lunch at an upscale restaurant Tuesday while the Russian president made them wait several hours for a meeting at the Kremlin about ending the war in Ukraine. While the Americans killed time, Putin addressed the press at an investment forum where he blamed Europe for thwarting the peace process and hinted at future escalation. “We’re not planning to wage a war with Europe, but if Europe decides to start a war, we’re ready right now,” he said. Unsurprisingly for those who know the Russian president’s habit of keeping foreign dignitaries twiddling their thumbs, Tuesday’s talks began almost three hours later than the 5 p.m. start time initially indicated by Putin’s spokesperson. A video posted by the Kremlin showed Putin welcoming Witkoff and Kushner and asking whether they were enjoying Moscow, to which Witkoff replied: “It’s a magnificent city.”  Discussions in the Russian capital on the almost four-year war on Ukraine didn’t conclude until long after midnight local time.  In a post on X, Putin’s foreign policy adviser Kirill Dmitriev, who was present at the talks, called the meeting “productive.”  Donald Trump’s latest push to inject new momentum into a ceasefire effort, with a plan that heavily favored Moscow, has ramped up pressure on Kyiv and alarmed European officials. | Pete Marovich/Getty Images Putin aide Yuri Ushakov, who was also present, described the conversation as “useful, constructive, and highly substantive,” but added there was still a “lot of work” to be done.  “We’re not further from peace that’s for sure,” he said.   According to Ushakov, Putin flagged “the destructive actions of the European side” — an indication he may try to pin the blame for any failure to reach a peace deal on the EU, which was notably left out of the meeting. Trump’s latest push to inject new momentum into a ceasefire effort — with a plan that, in its original 28-point leaked version, heavily favored Moscow —has ramped up pressure on Kyiv and alarmed European officials.  Among other things, it asks Ukraine to give up territory in the country’s east not yet occupied by Russian forces and to formalize that it will not seek to join NATO.  Though Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has described the talks as confronting Ukraine with possibly the “most difficult moment in history,” he has signaled he is open to dialogue. Less clear is what Trump is requiring from Russia, or what Moscow is willing to concede.  In the days preceding the Moscow talks, Putin showed no signs of straying from his demand of Ukraine’s effective capitulation, denouncing Zelenskyy as an illegitimate leader with whom he could not strike a deal.  Vladimir Putin spoke to the press at an annual investment forum, blaming Europe for stalled peace talks and hinting at escalation. | Pool Photo by Kristina Kormilitsyna via Getty Images In fact, neither earlier talks in Istanbul, an August summit in Alaska between Trump and Putin or five previous visits to Moscow by Witkoff have resulted in the Kremlin softening its stance or its bellicose rhetoric. In comments to POLITICO, State Duma politician Pyotr Tolstoy echoed that inflexible position, saying that “no decisions will be made that would undermine Russia’s security. This must be clearly understood.” So far, there is no sign that Tuesday’s talks will prompt any shift in Moscow’s position. “No doubt Putin believes he has laid everything out once again, and now it’s up to the others to decide among themselves whether they want to end the war,” says Tatiana Stanovaya, founder of political consultancy R.Politik. Putin is ready for peace, she says. “Just on his terms.”

Welcome to Declassified, a weekly humor column. No one is safe from U.S. President and toddler-in-chief Donald Trump’s tariff fury, not even penguins living in Heard Island and McDonald Islands. Which, let’s be honest, we all thought was a made-up place, added by Trump’s staffers to the gigantic cardboard charts to confuse journalists. If there ever was a country that we’d all assume Donny the Menace would spare from financial doom, it’s the one named after his favorite restaurant. But apparently, that luxury is only granted to the U.S.’s truest friends and allies: Russia and North Korea. The EU was one of the president’s initial targets, one that he called out during his Rose Garden speech for being “very tough traders” and “pathetic.” Say what you will about Donny, but he is a real master of the left-handed compliment. As soon as the news broke, all eyes in Brussels turned to Commission President and Queen of European Trade Ursula Von der Leyen, who promptly responded that … she would speak the next day. EU citizens and businesses felt very reassured. The following morning, the whole continent (more or less) was glued to their screens, phones or carrier pigeons of choice to hear what she had to say. Will the EU go for a tit-for-tat approach? Or will they offer something to calm Donny down? Is VDL going to panican or panican’t? Queen Ursula quieted the masses’ biggest fears by finally giving a straightforward and precise response: The bloc was (insert pause for dramatic effect) “prepared to respond.” It does not get any clearer than that. After a few days, the perpetually undecided and fearfully bureaucratic von der Leyen tried yet another tactic: She went from preparing to respond to responding (maybe), offering first a carrot to the White House and proposing to remove all industrial tariffs on exports to the U.S., and then a stick in the form of retaliatory tariffs. Now, the whole thing is on hold for 90 days. No one can tell what, if anything, will happen next. What we can say for sure is that — if we know our politicians — any final decision will take a while and probably won’t be final at all. But if Her Majesty Queen Ursula is looking for advice, the answer is simple. Donny’s true intentions always lie in his ‘Truths’: “Don’t be Weak! Don’t be Stupid! Don’t be a PANICAN,” and things will be just fine. CAPTION COMPETITION “The new Président de la République française? C’est moi!” Can you do better? Email us at gpoloni@politico.eu or get in touch on X @POLITICOEurope. Last week we gave you this photo: Thanks for all the entries. Here’s the best from our postbag — there’s no prize except for the gift of laughter, which I think we can all agree is far more valuable than cash or booze. “And here we place the club house of the ‘Riviera of the Arctic Golf Club.'” by Gregor Pozniak

A Russian missile attack on the Ukrainian city of Kryvyi Rih killed 19 people, including nine children, local officials said on Saturday. Moscow said it was targeting a military meeting. The combined missile and drone attack on the city in the Dnipropetrovsk region injured another 72 people, Serhiy Lysak, the regional governor, said on Telegram. The attack hit close to a playground, damaging nearby buildings, he said. “Almost half of the victims were hospitalized; 17 were in serious condition,” Lysak said.  Russia’s Defense Ministry said the attack was a “precision strike with a high-explosive missile at a restaurant … where commanders of formations and Western instructors were meeting,” according to a post on the ministry’s Telegram channel. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said that these strikes “cannot be accidental,” in a post on X. “The Russians know exactly what they’re hitting,” he said. “It is critically important not to leave this Russian strike on civilians, on the city — every such strike — without a response from the world,” the president said in another post.  Several European leaders condemned the attack. “Russia continues to destroy Ukraine, no interest in peace,” EU High Representative Kaja Kallas said in a post on X. She called the images from Kryvyi Rih, Zelenskyy’s hometown, “tragic and inhumane.” Dutch Defense Minister Ruben Brekelmans said that “this is why we need to accelerate support for Ukraine,” in a post on X. Jan Lipavský, Czechia’s foreign minister, called the attack “barbarism.”  Zelenskyy, expressed gratitude for support from European countries as well as Japan, the United Kingdom and Switzerland following the attack, but said he found the response from American Ambassador to Ukraine Bridget Brink “surprisingly disappointing.” “Such a strong country, such a strong people, and yet such a weak reaction. They are afraid to even say the word ‘Russian’ when speaking about the missile that murdered children,” Zelenskyy said in a post on X. 

Rue Américaine 122, 1050 Ixelles What’s good? Sao Thai offers mouthwatering Thai delicacies in a warm and refined setting. The staff is welcoming, attentive and ready to accommodate special requests. The food is delicious and nicely presented. As a starter, we ordered the Assiette Sao, an assortment of six different warm appetizers with sauces. As main course, we shared a Kai pad med mamaung — succulent wok-fried chicken with cashews, peppers and pineapple — and a Discovery plate which includes four different curries accompanied by rice. Our favorite? The scrumptious green curry! Mildly spicy, it includes tender chicken and Thai eggplants that burst with flavor. What’s not? We were eager to explore more exotic desserts, but the only traditional option available was the Sticky Mango Rice, so our choices were limited. Vibe: The atmosphere is warm and vibrant while maintaining a sophisticated touch. From high tables with swing chairs to the elegant round tables at the center of the room you have plenty options. It’s the perfect place for a business lunch as well as for an intimate date night.  Who’s picking up the check? While pricier than an average Thai takeaway, the experience is well worth it. Appetizers range from €13 to €19, while main dishes are priced between €22 and €32. Water is on the expensive side (€6.50), so we recommend opting for a nice bottle of red wine at €32 instead! Fun fact: Sao is the name of the chef and, together with her husband Leon and her son Beer, she runs the restaurant to share her passion for Thai culture and food with the customers. Insider tip: Step outside your takeaway comfort zone and try something beyond the usual Pad Thai. You won’t be disappointed! How to get there? Located in one of Brussels’ most stylish neighborhoods — the Châtelain district of Ixelles — at the corner of Rue Américaine and Rue du Mail. It’s a 45-minute walk from Schuman or a 24-minute ride on the 60 bus toward Uccle-Calevoet. Review published on  March 6, 2025. Illustration by Natália Delgado/POLITICO.  CHECK MORE REVIEWS

DAVOS, Switzerland — Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez said on Wednesday that tech billionaires want to use social media “to overthrow democracy” — adding he’ll push EU leaders to take action. “The technology that was intended to free us has become the tool of our own oppression,” he said during a speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. “The social media that was supposed to bring unity, clarity and democracy have instead given us division, vice and a reactionary agenda.” Sánchez said that limits on the length of texts and videos, as well as the absence of fact-checking measures, allow disinformation to flourish on social media platforms. He accused tech barons of designing their sites to “divide and manipulate” society in order to advance their personal political agendas by replacing “votes with likes.” The socialist politician lamented that the same sites that had initially helped unite people around the world and empower social justice efforts, such as the #MeToo movement and the Fridays for Future climate protests, were now being used to concentrate “power and wealth in the hands of just a few … at the cost of our democracies.” “What truly limits democracy is the power of the elites,” he said. “It is the power of those who think that because they are rich, they are above the law and can do anything. That is why, my friends, that is why the tech billionaires want to overthrow democracy.” Sánchez said that at the next meeting of European Union leaders in Brussels he will propose that the bloc move to “make social media great again” by imposing regulations and going after their billionaire owners. Among other measures he proposed fighting bots and fake profiles by requiring that users digitally identify themselves, and using the Digital Services Act to go after tech barons whose sites undermine democracy. “The owner of a small restaurant is held accountable if their food poisons customers,” he said. “Social media tycoons should be held accountable if their algorithms poison our societies.”

THE DEATH OF A RUSSIAN DEFECTOR: WHO FAILED MAXIM KUZMINOV? Ukraine’s most celebrated deserter was gunned down in a Spanish beach town. By CLAUDIA CHIAPPA, EVA HARTOG, and VERONIKA MELKOZEROVA in Villajoyosa, Spain Illustration by Brian Stauffer for POLITICO The first person to spot the body was an elderly Spanish man who mistook it for a drunk passed out at the entrance of the parking garage. Then he saw the blood darkening the dead man’s chest — and a white car flashing past him, speeding up the ramp and into the night. “He had at least six bullet wounds. He was wearing something like a jacket,” the man recalled. “You could see blood.” The dead man was carrying a fake Ukrainian passport, identifying him as Ihor Schevchenko, 33 years old, so it took a few days for news of his true identity to trickle out. At first, the rumors flitted through Russia-affiliated news outlets and posts on the messaging app Telegram. Finally, on Feb. 19, 2024, nearly a week after the body was found, Ukrainian officials confirmed it belonged to Maxim Kuzminov, a former Russian helicopter pilot who had carried out a high-profile defection the summer before, flying his vehicle across the front line and delivering it to Ukraine. Celebrated with fanfare in Kyiv, Kuzminov had been rewarded with money and promised protection, even as Russia declared him a traitor and called for his death. And so the question then became: What was Kuzminov doing in Spain? Ukraine had hoped his defection would serve as an example for others brave enough to resist the Russian regime. So how did he come to end up dead, bleeding out on the floor of a parking garage? THE MAKING OF A DEFECTOR Kuzminov was born in Arsenyev, a town located near the Sea of Japan, just about as far away from Ukraine as it’s possible to get and still be in Russia. Russian media reports say he came from humble beginnings; little is known about his father, but his mother was reportedly a seamstress who at one point dabbled in business with nearby China and South Korea. Both were largely absent, according to the reports.  Kuzminov’s main parental figure was his grandfather, a decorated military pilot who would take his six-year-old grandchild along on his flights, transmitting his passion to his young charge. Kuzminov attended a military academy in the city of Syzran and, after graduation, he joined the Russian armed forces as a helicopter pilot.  When Russian President Vladimir Putin launched his full-scale invasion of Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022, Kuzminov suddenly found himself confronted by the reality of war — transporting troops, cargo and military equipment in service of a war he would later say he didn’t believe in. Kuzminov was born in Arsenyev, a town located near the Sea of Japan. | Stringer/EPA “When all this began on Feb. 24, I cried, I was scared,” Kuzminov recounted in September after his defection. “How could we start a war against such a beautiful country? I went to church, lit candles with one wish: that everything would be over as soon as possible.” It was sometime around the first anniversary of the invasion that Kuzminov started secretly communicating with Ukrainian intelligence. As part of an operation called “Synytsia,” Ukraine had offered rewards of between $10,000 to $1 million to Russian soldiers who defected with their equipment. Outnumbered and under-equipped, Kyiv hoped that it could weaken Russia from within, by convincing the Kremlin’s soldiers to turn their backs on the war effort. Kuzminov was among the first to take up the offer.  On Aug. 9, 2023, Kuzminov put his plan into action. Lifting off in a Mi-8 transport helicopter from the Kursk airport near Ukraine, he flew toward the border, keeping low to the ground and maintaining radio silence. The two other crewmembers on board, with whom Kuzminov had only shortly before hung out at a lakeside barbecue, had no idea what was happening. What took place next is disputed. According to the version put forward by Ukrainian officials, Kuzminov was wounded in the leg as the helicopter crossed the border, most likely by Russian small-arms fire. Once he landed, his two companions tried to flee back to Russia, only to be shot by Ukrainian soldiers. The version put forward by some Russian state media claims that Kuzminov killed the two soldiers himself before landing. Regardless of what actually happened, his defection provided Ukraine with a public relations bonanza and Kyiv mined it for all it was worth.   “This operation will have consequences for the moral and psychological state of Russia, as well as for defense,” Andriy Yusov, a Ukrainian military intelligence official, told reporters. Over the next few weeks, the baby-faced pilot held a press conference, gave multiple interviews and was featured in a documentary. As promised, Kuzminov was given $500,000.  During a press conference on Sept. 5, 2023, Kuzminov’s first public appearance after his defection, the Russian pilot appeared nervous, addressing a large room filled with news-hungry reporters. The entrance to the parking garage where Kuzminov was killed. | Johannes Simon/Getty Images “What was the impetus for the decision to switch to the side of Ukraine?” he said. “I decided for myself that this was the most brutal crime. And I simply will not take part in this.” Shortly after, a Ukrainian blogger posted another interview with Kuzminov on YouTube. Dressed in a gray denim jacket, a white T-shirt and shorts, which revealed a bandage on his left leg, Kuzminov told his interviewer: “I love my country, Russia. But I don’t like my state.” In Russia, any criticism of the Kremlin or the war is invariably demonized as an attempt to undermine the country from within. Kuzminov’s words — and the pair of Captain America socks pulled halfway up his shins —  were seen as tantamount to a declaration of war. At home, his defection turned him into the most hated man in the country — not just for switching sides but also for the deaths of the two other servicemen on his helicopter. Within days, death threats flooded his social media accounts. A man claiming to be his father publicly disowned him. State television lambasted him as “the traitor Kuzminov.”  In October, shortly after his defection, a flagship news program aired a segment featuring masked men it identified as GRU agents planning to hunt him down. “The order has already been given,” the narrator of the segment said. “It is just a matter of time before it will be carried out.” Asked at the press conference how he felt about the threat to his life, Kuzminov answered: “I am a very religious person. God gave me life; he will take it away. Yes, it is scary, but fear is humiliating. I’m not afraid of anything anymore. “As for moving somewhere in Europe, there is a possibility, I will think about it too,” he said. DEATH IN VILLAJOYOSA Less than half a year later, unbeknownst to the world, Kuzminov was living in Villajoyosa, a beach town of about 35,000 people about an hour from Alicante on Spain’s southeastern coast.  By all appearances, he had turned a page on his past, leading a life that to him, who’d grown up in the impoverished Russian province, must have felt tantamount to that of a rock star. The stresses of his life in Russia and the war appeared to be behind him.   But if he had moved to the Spanish Riviera expecting safety, he didn’t find it. Many of the details of Kuzminov’s assassination remain murky. But according to media reports and interviews conducted by POLITICO, he was gunned down by two attackers in the parking garage of his apartment building. Kuzminov apparently tried to run and made it to the ramp before he collapsed. In escaping, his killers ran over him with a car, possibly Kuzminov’s. The Spanish Civil Guard said they found the burned out vehicle days later, about 20 kilometers from town. Spanish Civil Guard officers investigate the scene of the murder. | Rafa Arjones/Informacion.es via Reuters The murder sent a shock wave through the region, which markets itself as a fairyland of rest and amusement for foreigners.  Spain was quick to point the finger eastwards, with Spanish intelligence services telling the newspaper El País that Moscow likely tasked its hit men to carry out the assassination. But Spanish authorities showed little enthusiasm in digging further. Mark Galeotti, head of the London-based Mayak Intelligence consultancy firm and a leading Russia expert, said Kuzminov’s death looks much more like “an organized crime killing.” But, he added, “It seems entirely plausible that then the Russian state would have reached out to the gangsters and more or less said, ‘We need you to do something for us.’” Villajoyosa has a sizable community of Russians and Ukrainians. The town has a Russian Orthodox church and, in the very center, a large Russian supermarket.  The Cala Alta residential complex where Kuzminov lived in the weeks before his death and where he was killed sits about 10 minutes from the seaside. It’s a gated community made up of tall, white, balconied apartment buildings, a pool and clay-colored paths where residents and their pets mingle among the palm trees and patches of grass. When POLITICO visited the complex earlier this year, half of the apartments seemed to be empty. Most doorbells rung unanswered. The units that were occupied mostly hosted vacationers looking for a few weeks of escape. It quickly became clear no one wanted to be reminded of the crime. “Nothing ever happens here,” went one typical comment.  A caretaker at Cala Alta, who was the second person to arrive on the crime scene, said he only spoke to Kuzminov once: when the former pilot asked him where he could dispose of the debris from renovating his apartment. After that, he saw him occasionally around the complex. Kuzminov was always wearing dark clothes, hoodies and hats, as if he was trying to go unnoticed, the caretaker said. The ramp in the garage where Kuzminov was found dead. | Eva Manez/Reuters Several people said that the former pilot was a regular at a sports bar across the street from Cala Alta. But inside the establishment, nobody seemed to remember him. Around town, when people were asked whether they had seen Kuzminov, they shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders.  There were a few exceptions. Workers at a local grocery store recalled him coming in on occasion. A waiter at a nearby restaurant said he would sometimes see him around town. “I saw him many times, he wasn’t very talkative,” a chef in a restaurant close to Kuzminov’s apartment said. “He made a big mistake coming here to live.”  Across the street from the garage where Kuzminov was shot, a Russian man was having drinks in a café with a friend. “I think he deserved it,” he said, taking a slug of his beer. THE END OF MAXIM KUZMINOV Outside Villajoyosa, the news of Kuzminov’s death has been met with reactions ranging from gleeful celebrations to dismissive shrugs. Contrary to the goal of Ukraine’s defection program, onlookers are drawing a number of lessons from his assassination — and not the ones that Kyiv had hoped for. One of Kuzminov’s childhood friends in Russia, who asked to remain anonymous for safety reasons, described Kuzminov as “humble, good-hearted and very naive.” He said the former pilot had a “pliable temperament,” and that he likely deserted because “someone exerted pressure on him and he was afraid.” The promise of a big reward was likely also a big factor, he said.  After the defection, Kuzminov’s friends and relatives had been interrogated by the Russian security services and made to take lie detector tests, the friend added.  He added that, as far as he knew, Kuzminov’s entire group of friends from Russia had cut him off. “In our circle, we all have a very negative reaction to what he did,” he said. “Of course, there’s our childhood bond, but what he did overshadows that. No one really mourned his death.” Outside the country, Russians — especially those critical of the government — have noted with alarm the ease with which two killers slipped in and out of Villajoyosa and got away with murder. Spanish authorities have washed their hands of any responsibility. Intelligence sources told El País they did not even know that Kuzminov was in the country and that they had not been informed of his arrival.  A burned car allegedly used by the perpetrators of the murder. | Alex Dominguez/Informacion.es via Reuters To this day, Spain’s Civil Guard won’t officially confirm that the body that was found was Kuzminov’s. Requests for interviews with the Villajoyosa police went unanswered. Half a year after the killing, there are no solid leads, or at least none that have been made public. Like the citizens of Villajoyosa, authorities in the country seem to be treating the case as something best forgotten quickly. That has reinforced the perception, fed by a series of incidents on British and continental soil, that the Kremlin can reach into Europe and target its enemies with impunity.  Alexei, a 49-year-old Russian businessman who emigrated to Spain after facing pressure for his political views, said he feels “in danger, and I think many do.” For Ukraine, Kuzminov’s murder turned what should have been a major propaganda victory into a defeat. If Kyiv’s most highly touted defector did not live to see the anniversary of his desertion, how eager will other Russians be to cross over. Rather than showcase the benefits of switching sides, Kuzminov’s story ended up playing into the Kremlin’s hands by illustrating the mortal danger it entails. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the story appears to be one that Kyiv would rather forget. A Ukrainian intelligence official suggested that Kuzminov himself was in large part to blame for his death: The program under which he defected offered the right to keep his identity a secret.   “Kuzminov wanted money, so he got the money,” the official told POLITICO in March. “We gave him half a million dollars. He would have been under protection in Ukraine, but he came one day and told [us] he wanted to go abroad.” “We warned him that it was dangerous,” the official said. “But he said he wanted to go [to Spain] anyway. How would you imagine we could protect him? Kuzminov goes through a beach in Spain in flip-flops and with $500k under his armpit and our two-armed fighters accompany him? That is impossible outside our jurisdiction.” For a brief moment, Kuzminov’s defection thrust him into the global spotlight. A young man from Russia’s impoverished periphery, he spent the last months of his life in comfort he could have only dreamed of as a child.  In his death, he seems fated to sink back into obscurity.

Rue du Marteau 29 What’s good? The mix of crispy samosas we ordered as starter were delicious. My companion then went for moambe chicken, drumsticks in a peanut sauce, served with fragrant white rice and fried plantain. I’d already diligently studied the menu before arrival, and had my heart set on the tilapia with a fresh green sauce — I wasn’t disappointed, the fish was grilled to perfection. The staff also went out of their way to create a welcoming environment. One note: You’ll be out of luck if you’re looking for a light dinner — they don’t serve salads as a main dish. Not that either of us would have ordered one. What’s not good? The place was packed the Friday evening we went, so it took a while for the food to arrive. Understandable. But what we still haven’t recovered from is that the restaurant ran out of desserts. Like, all of them. Vibe: Pleasant atmosphere with upbeat African music. Added bonus: The restaurant is close to the POLITICO office, so keen-eyed diners might spot some of our colleagues getting their fill. It’s not the most intimate spot, rather informal and perfect for celebrations. We witnessed a couple of birthday outings, complete with spontaneous singing — guests joined in too — making it an unforgettable evening for everyone. Who’s picking up the check? Prices are moderate, especially considering the portions were too large for us to finish. Cocktails are standard, ranging from €10 to €13. But there’s also plenty of delicate wines, such as Ruinart Blanc de Blancs (€ 95), if you like to splurge. Insider tip: Don’t miss their cocktails (or a mocktail, if you’re working the next day). The sweet African star, a mix of vanilla vodka and passion fruit, is served with a shot of sparkling wine. How to get there: It’s a 10- to 15-minute walk from the EU institutions. A great opportunity to both get your steps in and help with digestion after your meal, which is guaranteed to leave you stuffed. Review published on  November 14, 2024. Illustration by Natália Delgado/POLITICO.  CHECK MORE REVIEWS

LONDON — Fifty years ago this month, the first McDonald’s opened in the U.K, becoming the 3,000th franchise of the fast food giant worldwide. Staff at the restaurant in the working class suburb of Woolwich, south east London, were paid 65 pence an hour and got free food. A milkshake, burger and “French fries” (so much more exotic than British “chips”) cost diners 48p. Life would never be the same. Attending the grand opening was the the gloriously named Mayor Len Squirrel, the first British politician to embrace the Big Mac, but by no means the last. Here in the U.K., and across the more than 100 countries which host the Golden Arches, when it comes to McDonald’s, it seems politicians are lovin’ it. On Sunday, U.S. presidential candidate Donald Trump hit up a branch of Maccy Ds in the swing state of Pennsylvania to man a fries station. A Mc-enthusiast, whose order of choice is said to be two Big Macs, two Filet-O-Fish, and a chocolate milkshake, Trump famously once catered a White House celebration for college football players with McDonald’s. But the former president didn’t go to the Feasterville-Travose branch of the chain merely to hang with Ronald McDonald. THEY’RE LOVIN’ IT The visit paid a dual purpose: proving Trump’s affinity with voters by spending time in America’s favorite restaurant, and throwing shade over rival Kamala Harris’ own claim to the McVote. In a version of “birtherism,” the lie peddled by Trump that Barack Obama was born overseas, the Republican is deploying what the New York Times dubbed “burgerism,” suggesting Harris is fibbing about her time toiling for a McDonald’s paycheck as a college student.   Asked why Trump had wanted to shovel fries, his aide Jason Miller said: “So that one candidate in this race could have actually worked at McDonald’s.” The Harris campaign hit back, insisting she was employed in an Alameda, California, branch of  McDonald’s in 1983, working the cash register, French fry station and ice cream machine. What might be viewed as a minor detail on a C.V. is clearly seen in political circles as something akin to electoral gold dust. Since her nomination, allies have made play of Harris’s time doling out burgers. Former President Bill Clinton, who himself once campaigned in a McDonald’s, told the Democratic National Convention she would “break my record as the president who has spent the most time at McDonald’s.” “Can you simply picture Donald Trump working at a McDonald’s?” asked Tim Walz, Harris’s pick to be vice president. “He couldn’t run that damn McFlurry machine if it cost him anything.” Donald Trump worked behind the counter during a campaign event at McDonald’s. | Win McNamee/Getty Images KAMBURLGAR But why do politicos seek to play up their McDonald’s connections? And why McDonald’s, why not Pizza Hut or Burger King — or just that café on the high street where they waited tables one summer? Natalie Kirby was head of media at McDonald’s U.K. for six years until 2014, and before that worked for the Conservative Party as an aide to William Hague when he was leader of the party. She said: “It’s seen as a shorthand for: I’m a man or woman of the people. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, quite the opposite: it’s saying I’m prepared to do hard graft. I earned my stripes. I’m like everyone else on the streets.” Confirming Harris’s claim to have worked in McDonald’s, this week her high school friend Wanda Kagan told the New York Times she too had worked in the fast food joint: “That’s what us regular folks did.” Because working in McDonald’s is indeed what regular American folk did — and do. One in eight U.S. citizens has at some point worked beneath the Golden Arches, flipping burgers, salting fries and assembling Happy Meal containers. One in 13 Americans will eat in a McDonald’s today. ONE IN ATE Does that mean they’ll feel warm towards a politician who has also worked in or eaten a McDonald’s? Both Harris and Trump seem to think so. Back in Britain, Kemi Badenoch, favorite in the contest to become the next leader of the Conservative Party, has also been talking up her time as a Mc-employee, flipping burgers in a south London restaurant while at high school. “I grew up in a middle class family, but I became working class when I was 16 working at McDonald’s,” she told GB News. “Just understanding how many people there were single parents, and they were working there to make ends meet. “There’s a humility there … You had to wash toilets, you had to flip burgers, you had to handle money.” One aide to Badenoch said that while U.S. politicians seek to prove their “quintessential Americanness” when they talk about McDonald’s, the would-be Tory leader was making a slightly different point. “I grew up in a middle class family, but I became working class when I was 16 working at McDonald’s,” Kemi Badenoch told GB News. | Christopher Furlong/Getty Images Badenoch grew up in a prosperous family in Nigeria, which fell on hard times due to the changing political situation there, and came to the U.K. with just £100 in its pocket. “What she particularly talks about is the fact that she had to clean the toilets,” the aide said. “It was a very formative moment for her. She wanted to make the best of herself, so she didn’t have to clean toilets again. “Trump handing out burgers and fries is something a little different — he’s connecting with voters by highlighting a quintessential piece of Americana. When Kemi references it, she’s talking about having to clean the bathrooms. All she ate was burgers, because that’s how she had to feed herself.” A STEPPING STONE Badenoch, the aide suggested, saw McDonald’s as a stepping stone to a better life — a route Kirby said was often the case for employees. “These aren’t dead end jobs. A surprising number of people on the McDonald’s board started in Saturday jobs when they were 16, 18. Others start there then go on to big careers elsewhere.” If Badenoch wins, she’ll be facing Britain’s Prime Minister Keir Starmer across the House of Commons. Bucking the political trend to embrace the burger, as a young lawyer in the 1990s, pescatarian Starmer worked pro bono to represent a group of environmentalists McDonald’s sued in the long-running courtroom drama which became known as the “McLibel” case. Taunted during the election campaign for his somewhat robotic style and struggles to connect with voters, he might have been wise to have eschewed the law and flipped burgers instead. In Europe too, McDonald’s seems to be having a moment in political circles. Belgium MEP Assita Kanko tweeted a photo of herself Monday clutching a McDonald’s bag, saying: “I am just hungry. Not campagning [sic] or something.” The corporate McDonald’s line is that the burger joint is non-political. “We are not red or blue — we are golden,” was the official statement from McDonald’s Chicago HQ in response to Trump’s day behind the fryer. Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean McDonald’s isn’t deeply political. In 1996, the writer Thomas L. Friedman posited what became known as the “Golden Arches Theory of Conflict  Prevention,” summed up as: “No two countries that both had McDonald’s had fought a war against each other since each got its McDonald’s.” Friedman suggested that where globalization had driven economic development in a country to a place where it could sustain a McDonald’s, then the new middle class there would have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo and avoiding conflict. Sadly, the theory didn’t survive Russian President Vladimir Putin’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine. Writer Thomas L. Friedman suggested that “No two countries that both had McDonald’s had fought a war against each other since each got its McDonald’s.” | Spencer Platt/Getty Images THE BIG MAC INDEX A decade before the Golden Arches theory, the Economist magazine came up with the Big Mac Index, by which the value of a currency is assessed relative to the cost of a Big Mac in a local McDonald’s; “Using patty-power parity to think about exchange rates,” as the strapline reads. Kirby said that in some senses, McDonald’s is a symbol of capitalism itself, spreading the American dream on the global stage. “McDonald’s is so ubiquitous, it’s global — it makes sense for it to be a benchmark. “Part of it is the franchisee model — it’s owner operated, and that makes it very attractive, because you can own your own business. Nothing can touch it in terms of global reach.” And it’s not just on the macro level that the French fry is political — at the micro level too, McDonald’s bobs on the rocky seas of social movement. In recent years, the company has been hit with its very own #MeToo movements. Last year Alistair Macrow, chief executive of McDonald’s U.K. and Ireland, told a parliamentary committee the firm had received 407 complaints “of all types,” of which 157 had been fully investigated with 17 categorized as sexual harassment. He said: “The cases are absolutely horrendous. What I’d like to be clear about is that we will tackle them and make sure that we do everything we can to eradicate them from the business. Nothing is more important.” There have been protests against the chain’s environmental impact, concerns raised about obesity and ill health, and strikes over low wages. But the chain has done much good as well, raising billions for charities and paying millions for employees to go through college. FOR GOOD OR ILL One summer years ago, I worked in the Clapham High Street branch of McDonald’s, like Badenoch in south London, and like Harris to earn some cash during the long university vacation. After a few weeks I realized a weird form of apartheid had emerged, with the young, white, female members of the crew pushed onto the cash registers, while older, male and minority members of staff languished behind the scenes. There was compassion, though; elderly people knew they could come in and get a free hot drink, and stay as long as they liked. It’s a scheme many franchises around the world continue today, with little fanfare. Many years later, I lived around the corner from a Ronald McDonald House in New York City, the gleaming glass and concrete structure a comfort to hundreds of families dealing with a little one’s cancer diagnosis. There are now Ronald McDonald Houses in 64 countries. Yet the fast food chain’s origin story, as told in the 2016 movie “The Founder” starring Michael Keaton (and disputed by McDonald’s) is decidedly Trumpian. While the first restaurant was opened by brothers Richard and Maurice McDonald in San Bernardino, California, in 1940, their production line, self service system was turned into a mass franchise model by the Chicago entrepreneur Ray Kroc, who bought the brothers out in the 1961 and turned McDonald’s into the national and then international beast we now know and love — or loathe. Today, there are 36,000 McDonald’s restaurants, with more than 2 million employees. Revenue comes in at about $26 billion a year. And despite a few wobbles along the way, the company is growing. Kroc once said: “It is ridiculous to call this an industry. This is not. This is rat eat rat, dog eat dog. I’ll kill ’em, and I’m going to kill ’em before they kill me. You’re talking about the American way — of survival of the fittest.” Sounds a lot like politics.